COD (Cause of Death): Unknown

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock, it belongs to the creative minds of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Gatiss, Moffat and BBC. I only own the plot and that's it. I hope you enjoy. :)

O n e.

Logic. (n.) Meaning a reason or sound judgment,as in utterances or actions. The problem here however I, Molly Hooper didn't see any logic to what was going on right now but more importantly I was afraid.

I was standing right in front of a body. This wasn't really anything too bizarre since I work in a morgue. But the body itself or the person exactly was what had me shaken up. This couldn't be real, I thought as I took a few steps back to put as much distance as I could between myself and it.

If you were curious, no I'm not in the morgue at all. Instead I'm on a cliff of sorts covered in dark rock. It's almost daybreak and so light should be coming soon and maybe even help. But I'm not getting my hopes about that.

I closed my eyes for a moment and began exhaling and inhaling like in any stressful situation up until the moment I could distinctly hear the sound of a car's tires driving up the road. I waited still not entirely sure who it could be or who I wanted it to be for that matter.

And then I opened my eyes at his voice. His voice alone.

This was ridiculous. Why would they call him here? Why would he come here in the first place? I found myself looking back at the body as I focused on their conversation. He wasn't alone of course. Lestrade and John were with him. "I think this would be a simple case for your division." Sherlock spoke quickly as he began walking towards the body, my body.

I found myself smiling a bitter smile in the irony that the one moment where he would actually have to pay attention to me was because I was now a victim of a murder case. However, I didn't even know anymore than that. It was all one big blur of nothing.

Sherlock had stopped two feet away from the body and just stood there blinking. I supposed it was the closest thing that I could as a reaction right now. He turned to John then who was standing next to him and asked the question then. "What do you think, John?"

The look on John's face made want to cry. He looked utterly distraught. I would have laughed too. He was always nice to me, even when his friend was being such an ass. I reached up to my face then when I felt the droplets start and wiped them away. "It's Molly."

"Yes, I thought that was quite obvious." There goes his attitude. I was waiting for it. Is that a bit sad?

"I don't understand how it happened or why. I wouldn't think she had any enemies."

"No, I suppose you're right about that but regardless what do you see?"

I sighed almost going so far as walking away. I would love to honestly. Being dissected by their eyes or worse later on was not something I would like to see. I couldn't move though, it was like someone or something was keeping me there. I couldn't for the life of me (or lack there of) comprehend why I had to be here.

"She was stabbed ..." He stopped as Sherlock gave him a look that clearly said 'you-are-stating-the-obvious-there-what-else'. John just rolled his eyes as he looked back at my body and moved my hand which was limply lying where I had been struck by the weapon of choice. It was quite unclear what it could be by the way the tear looked. It was an odd shape, nothing an ordinary knife could do. "by an unknown object. The Medical Examiner would have to get a closer look to give us some sort of real clue. I've never seen anything like this before."

Sherlock hummed as if he was thinking before muttering just one word. "Interesting."

"Are you going to explore it more then?" Lestrade asked looking a bit weary of the situation.

"We'll take the case." Sherlock muttered before shoving his hands in his coat and beginning to walk back to the car but then halting midstep and rushing back over to my body. Had he forgotten something. "She was out with someone. A date perhaps by the way she's dolled herself up. The lipstick is new and smeared as if her attacker smothered her or possibly kissed her. The dilation of her eyes as John may have already noticed means that she was caught of guard which gives you more reason to ask whether it was her date who stabbed her mid kiss or possibly she turned away after getting away with him and was stabbed by someone else?"

He stopped momentarily and glanced over my body again, searching for something. I was blushing while watching him do this though. It was a little embarrassing despite the fact that I knew he couldn't see me.

"Who was her latest boyfriend?"

"That Jim fellow who you labeled as gay." John replied quickly. "She could have been dating someone else, however."

Sherlock shook his head before walking over to a spot that I hadn't brought my attention to. It might have been because of the blood. There had been a lot. But I remember consciously not looking there. Now I could see why. There was a message written in blood. In my handwriting.

It read/Sherlock spoke it as I looked on:

I'm sorry, Sherlock. - MH

I shut my eyes while trying to remember writing that. I couldn't remember it, let alone the moments before when I was attacked. Why would I write that? What had I found out? Did I find anything out?

"What does she mean?" Lestrade ask quickly.

"I'm not sure."

"What do you mean? You didn't have an argument with her recently did you?"

Sherlock looked at John for an answer and I nearly wished to strangle him. How could he not know if he insulted me recently? He did it nearly every time he saw me! Ugh!

"Last time we saw her, you didn't but you did have a heart to heart I hear...or maybe not. I was focused on something else." He trailed off noticing the steeley glare Sherlock was giving him.

I could remember it, though. I had actually said what was on my mind for once. It made me smile though.

"See, did nothing wrong. I'll figure it out if it becomes important to solving the case. Make sure to send over pictures, we'll need them." He replied quietly before tilting his head to the side looking over to where I was standing much closer to the body.

I almost thought he could see me but then disregarded that more out of disbelief that it was possible. All this was completely insane.

I, Molly Hooper am dead.

Hello there. So this is my first Sherlock fic. I'm a bit out of my element here but the idea came and I couldn't not write it ya know? I'm from the US so I probably won't be using much British terms but I hope you like it all the same. I'm not entirely sure about this story but I'm giving it a shot. Any feedback may help me feel more confident and I'll write more. -D.